


STAB

by ferris



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Serial killer-y, Very very very faint traces of eruri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferris/pseuds/ferris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be careful what you do.<br/>Serial-killers don't exist inside the walls, do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	STAB

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted a serial killer fic, dude. Or a fic where Levi goes batshit insane and kills everyone he loves.  
> Partly inspired by Pazi Sta Radis - Wikluh Sky (A Serbian Film soundtrack); you can listen to it here: http://kisu-no-hi.tumblr.com/post/72151436459/satansweet-pazi-sta-radis-wikluh-sky-from-a
> 
> You can also read it on my tumblr: http://actualheichou.tumblr.com/post/84693083314/stab

**1.**

When he wakes up, he finds himself drenched in sweat and nearly choking himself in his entanglement of bed sheets. He can smell the scent of rust and iron and blood and salt and he feels unclean, even when he can trace the strong odor of bleach and cleaning solution hanging heavy in the air. 

The moon has barely risen, but Levi has always liked an early night so he can wake up for an early morning. Routine, as hard as it is to maintain in  _his_  kind of life, is something that Levi wills himself to uphold whenever he can. 

But this is not routine. This is not - 

"Captain?" 

Levi slowly sits up. Something is amiss, he knows, and he is dimly aware in the faint glow of the moon outside, that there is a clinging feeling of dirtiness on his hands. He lowers his head slowly, eyes moving sluggishly as he looks down at his hands on his lap. If he squints, he can detect streaks of rusty brown and a crust of red nearly congealed under his fingernails. The hairs on the back of his neck rises as he falls out of bed with a loud thump, breathing heavy, rushed, terrified, as he staggers to the adjoining bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light as he scrubs furiously at the red staining his hands, his wrists, his arms - 

"Captain!" 

Levi stops, slowly. His hands are still slippery with soap and he hurriedly rinses off the suds, blinking when he realizes that there’s nothing but clean white bubbles going down the drain, not even the faintest hint of red at all. He looks at the mirror, feeling slightly unwell - the blood that had been splattered over his face just seconds ago is nonexistent. He stares at his reflection. There is nothing there, nothing at all. 

"Captain!  _Captain!_ " 

Levi exits the bathroom and approaches his door, rubbing his forehead wearily as he opens it to reveal Nifa. She has large panicked eyes, she is breathing hard: it looks like she has been running from some horrific thing. 

"Captain, your squad - " 

Levi feels a tingling in his fingers and his stomach plummets - “What? What is it?” he asks, as calmly as he can, opening the door further and narrowing his grey eyes. His face is half dark by the shadows cast by the moon - 

"Captain, your squad’s dead - " 

He tenses. He says nothing but sweeps from the room, feeling a trail of sticky blood glue his footsteps to the stone floor and the same red liquid trickling down his neck. 

**2.**

When Levi closes his eyes, it doesn’t feel like he’s closed them at all. He still sees the knife in his hands, he still sees the blood on the floor. There is still the brown-haired person with glasses hanging off her severed ear face down in the water in front of him and he doesn’t know how it happened. 

He can still smell it, the pungent odor of vomit mingled with the sour scent of blood. Somehow Hanji’s screams still echo, even when her face is underneath the water and the rest of her body stabbed and sliced. The knife in his hand feels like it’s been glued to his fingers. There is a distinct feeling of unrest in his heart and he can smell the bleach again, even when it’s not here. 

Just like Hanji. 

He doesn’t know exactly how it happened. One moment they were discussing the consequences of losing his squad and all the people in it - a titan-shifter, one of the best prodigies they’d had in years, the future queen - 

And then she was dead. Hanji, fearless Hanji, face down in the water, drowned and cut. Levi looks at the corpse, wondering how it got there, how the knife got in  _his_  hand, wondering why his clothes are wet. He feels unclean again; it feels wrong, wrong wrong - 

But in the mirror, he doesn’t see anything. There is no blood. There is no red. There is nothing stained on his face, and his clothes are immaculate. 

Still, the smell of iron hangs in the air. 

**3.**

"People have been going missing - " Levi spits out as he paces, frustrated, in front of Erwin. He runs a hand through his hair, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "It’s not quite - "

"Not quite right," Erwin murmurs, sitting behind his desk, a cup of tea in front of him. Levi thinks his hands would be folded in front of him if he had both of them still, but he continues his pacing angrily in front of his Commander. 

"I wake up and - and I can’t get them out of my head - " Levi says, tongue tripping up his words: he doesn’t think he sounds coherent, but Erwin can understand him and that’s all he needs right now. The blond looks at him from behind his desk and Levi suddenly feels distant. Had Erwin always been so far? Had those blue eyes always been so cold? He can’t help but feel the ice shard in his heart push in deeper and he looks at Erwin with his hawk-like grey eyes. 

"Was it - " Erwin begins. 

"Do you know if I - " Levi asks, panic that he had never let into his voice showing in his every movement. He is like a trapped animal and he doesn’t know why. His fingers feel like steel bands digging into his palms as they curl up into fists and he looks straight at Erwin’s blue eyes. 

“ _Levi!”_  Erwin shouts, and that’s the last word that ever leaves his mouth before his Corporal wraps his hands around Erwin’s neck and twists. There is a struggle, oh yes, Erwin is not a Commander for anything, and his large frame definitely gives him an advantage. 

But insanity and mindless killing has always been on Levi’s side, and he feels disgusted with himself and with the feeling of his hands around Erwin’s neck as he wrings. Vaguely, he wonders what’s wrong with him as the man he would die for dies in front of him. 

There’s no blood this time, but the smell of rust and iron never goes away anymore. 

His hands feel warm. 

**4.**

He sits in a cell, waiting for judgement -  _waiting for judgement_ , he thinks to himself, trying not to let an unwanted smirk overtake his lips. Why is he smiling? Levi feels disgust bubbling up in him. He looks at his hands. Were they always so pale? 

The Corporal only looks up when the clang of the cell door alerts him that there is another man in his presence. He feels the urge to kill; he’s not sure why. He doesn’t want to. He’s done enough. And the man in front of him is only just a little familiar. 

Nile stands silent, looking at Levi chained to the wall. The only sound is the echo of the brass door and the  _drip-drip-drip_  of the water falling from the dungeon ceiling. 

"My family tree’s losing its leaves," Levi murmurs, soft, but his voice is magnified a million times in this tiny dungeon prison with the guillotine waiting for him at the end of this week. He’s killed a lot of people, they told him, and Levi thinks he agrees with them. All he wants is for that damned smell of blood to get out of his nose already. 

Nile doesn’t say anything. He merely looks at Levi, his mouth a thin line, before he turns and leaves, leaving Levi alone. 

"I’m just waiting to fall, too," Levi says aloud, louder, wondering why there are hands around his neck, hands that feel strangely like his own, and why the world is going black and there’s still the smell of blood and bleach hanging in the air, like a moon that just won’t rise. 


End file.
